


French toast & you

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Series: under 1k fic [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 100 percent fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Protective Bucky Barnes, Stucky - Freeform, all the fluffy feels, domestic stucky, old habits, post winter soldier, snuggles, this is fluffy enough to be a marshmallow tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4643985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Winter in Brooklyn and though Steve is no longer frail those old habits stick around and Bucky can't help but take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	French toast & you

"Bucky. For the last time, I don't need a jacket. I'm not skin and bones anymore," Steve thrusts the jacket back into Bucky's arms - it's pouring the snow in Brooklyn and they're out of bread so Steve insists on making a quick run to the market.

"I don't care if you're 400 pounds of muscle and tight shirts. You're _taking_ a jacket. I didn't spend most of my life tugging covers over your wheezing body and keeping you warm for nothing," Bucky huffs defiantly as he holds the jacket out once more. It's thin because Steve refuses to purchase a thicker one but it's something.

"If you want french toast you gotta let me go," Steve protests. Bucky steps in front of the apartment door and blocks it with his body - a strong metal arm tightly wrapped around the handle.

"I can get around you."

"Jacket." Bucky says sternly.

"Sweatshirt," Steve compromises.

"Fine."

He disappears into the bedroom and comes out in a thick black sweatshirt that belongs to Bucky.

"Thank you," Bucky replies as he moves away from the door. Steve glares at him and pulls the hood over his head. "Be careful!," he calls to Steve's retreating back.

 

He returns fifteen minutes later with snow melting on his sweatshirt and three bags of bread as well as a small roll of Lifesavers - Bucky's favorite from back when they were younger and could hardly afford them. Back then he'd do small jobs and use the money for splurges because he liked to see Bucky smile even as he lectured about how they should've used the money instead.

"Got you something," Steve says as he tugs the sweatshirt over his head and takes off his wet shoes.

"Is it you being healthy? Because I'll take that," Bucky melts butter on the skillet for the french toast and starts to whisk the eggs.

"Told you, I _am_ healthy. Anyway that's not it."

Bucky dips two pieces of bread into the wet goods and they sizzle as they hit the skillet.

Steve comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Bucky's waist - leans in close and whispers "Look." as he presses the candy into Bucky's palm.

"Lifesavers...you remembered."  He softens immediatly and melts against Steve's back. It's the small things.

" 'member how I used to surprise you with them?," Steve asks as Bucky peels the paper back and pops a green one in his mouth.

"- and I kept telling you we needed that money for the rent," Bucky finishes.

"I can buy all of the Lifesavers you want now, Buck," Steve presses a kiss to the top of his head - hair that smells like lavender and soap and _him._

"Only if you wear a jacket when you get them," Bucky says with a smile as he plates the french toast and carefully puts the Lifesavers beside of the coffee pot. It's Steve's idea of a love letter, it's perfect.

Steve gets out the syrup and forks and Bucky can't help but marvel at how they work so well together - always have.

"What?," Steve catches Bucky staring with a sideways grin on his face - if he'd known french toast would make him this happy they would've made it more often.

"Me, you, _this_ ," Bucky gestures to the table - two plates of french toast with forks and syrup in the center.

Steve understands - neither of them had expected to be sitting in a tiny kitchen in Brooklyn in 2015 and together at that. Even time itself hadn't been able to keep them apart.

"I'm glad that you're here with me, that _we're_ here," Steve is feeling sappy and he doesn't try to hide it, not around Bucky. They wasted too many years covering up feelings already.

Bucky sits down at the table and Steve reaches across and intertwines their fingers - gives a gentle squeeze.

"Wouldn't wanna be anywhere else." 

Steve meets his eyes and they stare for a long while - drinking one another in. Its been a year since the chaos that was their life died down and they settled into a cozy apartment in Brooklyn with pale yellow linoleum, eggshell white curtains hanging over a small kitchen window, houseplants dotting the windowsill, one bedroom with a large bed in the center and Steve's drawings tacked to the walls and a tiny bathroom with Steve's shampoo beside of Bucky's and yet it still feels like a dream.

"Foods getting cold, I worked hard on that," Bucky says with a laugh as he releases Steve's hand.

"And _I_ got the bread. I get credit for that," Steve teases.

"Next time _I'm_ getting the bread 'cause I have the common sense to wear a coat when it's snowing," Bucky retorts with a wink.

"Or...we could stay home where it's warm and huddle up under the covers," Steve suggests with an eyebrow raised.

"Can't argue with that," Bucky pushes his chair back and abandons his half eaten french toast, grabs Steve by the hand and pulls him to the bedroom.

"You know - I'm starting to get goosebumps. You could keep me warm," Steve murmurs as Bucky curls around him.

"In that case I'll have to stay right where I am - can't have you getting sick can we?"

"Nope," Steve says with a yawn as he settles in closer.

Outside the snow turns into larger flakes and piles on top of the roof and windows - french toast and Lifesavers. This is love.


End file.
